


I... wait

by Multifandom_damnation



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Body Dysmorphic Disorder, Canonical Character Death, Drinking & Talking, Flower Crowns, Gen, Homesickness, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Near Death Experiences, Past Torture, Past Violence, Psychological Trauma, Self-Doubt, Self-Hatred, Trust Issues, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-22 21:42:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18142298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multifandom_damnation/pseuds/Multifandom_damnation
Summary: Patience. A word Beau would never really associate with herself but something Darion has been trying to beat into her nonetheless. Beau assumes that Darion meant patience in battle and patience with herself and all that wise-ass monk bullshit, but Beau is instead using it for different means. like waiting for her friends to open up to her and tell her what's on their mind.Waiting is not really Beau's strong suit, despite what being a monk might suggest, and not all of Darion's practices have been put into motion yet. But she is dead set on making sure her new family knows how loved and cared for they are and puts Darion’s teachings into practice. If they have something to say, they’ll come to her, and until then, Beau just has to learn a lesson in patience.And holy fuck is Beau inpatient.





	I... wait

**Author's Note:**

> I tried something new with the tense so I'm really sorry if it's absolutely shitty. I know it's an absolute bombshell of a fic but I tried and I don't expect it to be any good so sorry in advance if you've made it this far.

Patience is not really Beau’s strong suit, but it’s something that Darion has been trying to train into her since the moment they met. But Beau is inpatient- why would she wait for something to _possibly_ happen when she can make it happen twice as quickly? But she wants to make Darion proud- she wants people to know that she _is_ reliable and that she _can_  be depended on when it counts.

She knows that her friends- the one she doesn’t know if she should trust but have defiantly become the family she never had over the months that they’ve known each other- are hurting and she knows without a doubt that they have things to say, but they’re closed in and locked down as if speaking is more painful than it's worth. So Beau, dead set on making sure her new family knows how loved and cared for they are, puts Darion’s teachings into practice. If they have something to say, they’ll come to her, and until then, Beau just has to learn a lesson in patience.

* * *

  Unsurprisingly, Jester comes to her first, a frown plastered on her lips and Tusk Love held loosely in her hand. Beau had noticed these past few weeks that Jester wasn’t as bubbly and excitable as she normally was and that it in itself made Beau worry, so now as Jester flopped onto her bed in the room her and Beau share, book clutched to her chest, Beau makes her move. “You alright?” she asks as Jester blows air out through her nose.

“Not really,” Jester admits, turning on her side. The book is still held tight in her hands but not in the way it normally is- with possession and excitement and thrill. It’s clutched to her like she doesn’t really know what to do with it but loves it too much to let go. “I’ve just been thinking.”

“Oh yeah?” Beau moves from where she is re-wrapping her hands on the other bed in their tiny room they rented at the inn and joins Jester on the small single bed shoved up near the window. “What’s on your mind? It can’t be anything good- you looked like you’ve eaten a sour lemon for a couple of weeks now.”

Jester shifts and the bed creaks with the movement. Beau waits as Jester gets her thoughts in order. “It’s just… I _want_ to love Fjord,” Jester says sadly and Beau feels something inside her break at how small her voice sounds. “I really, really do because he’s super-duper cool and handsome and nice but… I don’t think he loves me the same.”

“I don’t know, he’s been flirting with you a lot lately,” Beau says gently as Jester sits up against the wall. “Making sure you’re alright or if you need company or that you’re happy. Seems like he has a crush to me.”

“Oh that’s no love at all,” Jester waves her hands about and drops them to her lap with a huff. “Molly did the same thing and he was never in love with me. Fjord is just being a stupid _boy_ ,” Jester pouts, rubbing angrily at her eyes as frustrated tears begin to form. “Mama would know what to do. She’s always had people flirting with her and falling in love with her and stuff. I wish I could ask her what to do.” She picks up Tusk Love, her most beloved novel, and tosses it angrily onto Beau’s bed. “Stupid book. It’s all a big fat lie. I thought that Fjord would be more like Oskar and be a dashing hero here to save me, but _I’m_ the hero and _Fjord_ is the maiden who needs saving.”

“Well,” Beau begins, fingers twitching on the bedspread. Talking about feelings and relationships isn’t really her strong suit, but she’s more than willing to help as much as she can, especially after how long she’s waited. “You could always ask your mum for help now. You could just send her a message every night when everyone else has gone to bed and ask her for advice.”

Jester tilts her head to the side as she thinks and her tongue subconsciously pokes out of her mouth. Eventually, she nods, and smiles widely at Beau, “Oh yeah, that’s such a good idea! Why didn’t I think of that?” She wraps her arms around Beau’s shoulders and pulls her in tight. “Thanks, Beau!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Beau returns the hug. “I’m always going to be here for you, Jes,” And for now at least, Beau’s patience pays off.

* * *

  The longer she waits, the more she can see the signs and soon Fjord is sitting next to her during a patrol. They watch the rain in silence for a few moments until Fjord clears his throat and breaks the quiet tranquillity. “Do you think we’re doing the right thing?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about but the answer is probably no,” Beau looks up at him but he is very carefully looking away. “Why? What are you thinking about?”

“I just... I’m not sure.” Fjord runs an exhausted hand down his face and has an expression that Beau can only interpret as someone regretting their life’s decisions. “I feel like most days we’re doing more harm than good.” He fiddles with the red string tied around his waist. “Hurting more than helping.”

Beau hums as she thinks about the words and the pattering rain falling over and sliding down the sides of their glowing dome. Caleb had made the hut a twinkling purple because Jester had moaned that she missed Molly and Caleb was happy to indulge her. “I think,” Beau says quietly as she muses. “That we do both. Sure, we cause some destruction and some people get hurt and maybe die, but we also save children from being captured and people’s homes from being burnt down and saving their fucking lives man. So I don’t know about you, but I feel like that’s something to be proud of.”

Sighing, Fjord runs a hand down his face and closes his eyes. “Maybe. But I still just feel like we should be better, you know? The world is going to know our name, Beau. Everyone is going to know who we are and I don’t want the Mighty Nein to be known for terrorizing towns and murdering people.”

“Well,” Beau begins, fiddling with her sash. It’s begun to get dirty after many nights on the road- she needs to wash it soon. “We’re doing the best we can with what we have. Doing Molly proud. ‘Leave every town better than when we found it’, remember?”

“Are we doing that?” Fjord turns to her with such palpable confusion that Beau feels it in her soul. “Or are we just making everything worse?”

"That's up to you," Beau sighs and runs her hands through her hair, trying to comb out some of the grit and dirt. That, like her sash, is in need of a wash. "I think we are. I think we're doing the best job we can. But that’s up to you to decide. In my opinion, we could be doing worse."  
  
Fjord closes his eyes and drops his head to rest against his chest. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I don't... I don't care what other people think of us, as long as we're doing what Molly always wanted."   
  
Beau shrugs. "I'm alright with that."  
  
Opening his eyes, Fjord turns to her with a half-cocked smile. "Thanks, Beau."  
  
"Anytime."

* * *

  She is nursing another tankard of something strong and bitter that might just be an ale that’s been sitting in the heat for too long while Caleb reads on the other side of the large wooden table. They are content to just sit in silence, Beau sipping at her drink and Caleb flipping through his book but it’s obvious that Caleb has something he'd like to say and Beau waits until he makes the decision on her own. "Beauregard?" Caleb asks eventually and Beau hums in response. "May I... may I ask you something?"  
  
"Yeah, but I'm not sure I'll answer," Beau replies, obviously joking. She folds her hands over the top of her tankard and leans forward to rest her chin on them. "What's up?"  
  
"Do you think that I... have been too brash with my blind trust of these people?" Caleb asks unexpectedly and Beau blinks in surprise. He fiddles with the worn cover of his book. "In telling them about who I am? What I am? What I have done and the things done to me?"  
  
Beau raises her eyebrows as she thinks. "Whoa Caleb, that’s a lot to unpack." She clears her throat. "You didn't exactly tell them everything, just what they needed to know. And even then, you only told them things that would help us all understand what we're dealing with." She nods to Celebs arms, free of the wrappings he usually wore. She can see the thin, faint scars that dot his flesh. “Are you feeling any better about… anything? You’re not wearing your bandages as often.”

“I have no need to anymore,” He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Everyone knows why I wore them, so now I have nothing to hide. It is… freeing, if I think about, but I actively try not to. But I worry that… well.” He takes a deep breath and Beau prepares herself for the worst. “I fear that I told them too much and they might use it against me in the future.”

Biting her tongue, Beau resists the urge to sigh. “Listen, Caleb, I know where you’re coming from, I really do. You’ve had a fucked up life filled with being betraying and trusting the wrong people. The Mighty Nein aren’t like that.”

“Do you trust them?” Caleb asks and Beau suddenly feels like she’s been backed into a corner. He gives her a few moments to speak, being the more patient out of the two humans, and when she finally feels like her answer is suitable for the weight of the question, she speaks.

“I trust what they do, not who they are.” And she realizes that she means it. When Caleb tilts his head to the side in question, Beau elaborates. “I trust that Fjord is going to have my back in a fight and get me out of a sticky situation if I need him to, but I don’t trust the orphan boy who filed away his tusks before he worked on a boat, only to be betrayed and drown and wake up chained to a god that nobody has even heard of in centuries. You know what I mean?” she takes a swig of her drink. “The same way you should trust me to beat the crap out of anyone who looks at you funny but not trust the little girl who was sold to monks and was taught not to take anyone’s shit at a very young age.”

Caleb stars blankly at the pages of his book for a moment before nodding. “The same with you all. Trust that I will be there for you when I am needed, but do not trust that small part of me that I am still fighting that was moulded under the influence of the Empire.” He glances up at Beau. “Thank you, Beauregard. That… cleared my conscious, a little bit.”

Beau hums in acknowledgement and they go back to their comfortable silence. Caleb turns his pages. Beau sips her drink.

* * *

 Nott is twisting flower stems together while Beau is watching Jester attempt to convince Fjord to dance with her in the wide, open field. Caleb washes his hands in the small stream. Behind where Beau and Nott sit, Caduceus sleeps, snoring loudly. “Beau, do you like this?” Nott asks, unconvinced. She lowers her voice so only Beau could hear. “I’m trying to make it for Caduceus but I’m not sure he’ll like it.”

Beau casts a look behind her, at Cad lying on his side, facing away from them, his tail curled around his legs and his head pillowed on his arms. He’s snoring so loud that it’s a wonder he isn’t shaking the ground. “I’m sure he’ll love it.”

“I’m trying to do nicer things for people,” Nott continues, plucking flowers from her pile and weaving them into the crown in her lap. “You know- try and be less goblin-like. Sometimes I worry that I’m being more of a goblin than a halfling or anything so I’m just trying to be… nicer.”

Frowning, Beau turns to Nott, but the goblin is more focused on her project. “You’re already so nice. I don’t think you need to change a thing. Why do you think there’s something wrong?”

Shrugging, Nott concentrates on the fiddly interweaving of the fragile stems of the flowers. “I mean, goblins aren’t known for their kindness.” A flower stem snaps in her grasp and the curses under her breath before tossing it away and picking up a new one. “I’m worried I’m going to wake up one day and not remember what it was like to be Veth. I’ve learned that halflings and goblins are very different and if I had to choose one, it sure as hell wouldn’t be a goblin.”

“And you think making flower crowns is going to help change that?” Beau asks gently and gives Nott the moment she so strongly needs to think.

“I’ve always liked flowers. They mean something special to my people and Yeza and I used to pick them every spring,” Nott explains, fingers absentmindedly plucking the petals from a flower. The rich blue is a stark contrast on the bright green of the grass. “And… I’m trying to be a nicer person. I know everyone likes flowers and I know for a fact that goblins don’t so I’m hoping that… giving people flowers will make me less of a goblin.”

That’s logic that Beau can’t argue with, despite how abstract it is. Instead, she turns to Caduceus, who is making muffled neighing noises that sound more like a charging bull than a gentle cleric sleeping. “Is there any particular reason that you’re making this one for Caddy? I mean, he’ll love it anyway, but are you just doing it to be kind or do you have a reason?”

Nott adds a flower with petals a similar colour to Caduceus’s hair to her arrangement. “I mean, all of us have been beaten around the bush recently but I feel like Ducey has had it pretty hard. Drowning, almost dying, _actually_ dying, being mauled and hurt and ambushed- he’s had a pretty shitty time. And I have learnt from experience that whenever you wear flower’s you’re protected and don’t get hurt as much, so I feel like good ole Mr Clay deserves a little bit of good luck.”

Beau smiles and pats Nott on the shoulder. Nott beams up at her like a child given praise, despite Beau knowing that Nott is a couple of years older than her. “I think that’s a great idea. And for the record- I think you’re great. Even for a goblin.”

“Thanks, Beau,” Nott finishes her flower crown and winks up at Beau. “I’ll be back. I need to give this to Caduceus and I want to see his face when he sees it.” And she scuttles away to where Caduceus is snoring and Beau watches her go with a smile.

* * *

   Yasha has always been interesting to Beau, not just for how attractive she is or how brutal she fights in battle, but because of how sweet and kind and interested she is in the people she likes. When it starts to storm and dark clouds begin to cover the town, the rest of the Mighty Nein stay bundled in their blankets while Beau braves the cold winds and darkness.

She’s sitting with her legs pulled to her chest and her eyes staring passionately out as the storm approached. Beau sits beside her as her Lord's calling comes closer. “You’re leaving soon.” She says and it isn’t a question. Yasha never gets that look on her face without the knowledge that she’ll have to depart soon. “Were you planning on saying goodbye?” She wasn’t. Beau understands.

“I… I did not want to see Jester’s face when I told her I was leaving,” Yasha says quietly. “And I didn’t want to have to explain to Caduceus why the storm called to me, though I feel like he would understand.” She glances at Beau. “And I didn’t want to say goodbye to you.”

“I’m glad I caught you then,” Beau leans back and puts her whole weight on her hands. “I don’t want to wake up only to realize that you’ve gone.”

Sighing through her nose, Yasha keeps her eyes focused on the storm above. In the distance, lightning crackled and the sound of far-off thunder reaches their ears. When Yasha doesn’t reply, Beau bites her tongue, looks at her out the corner of her eye and waits. “I am not just leaving because He is calling me,” Yasha says eventually, voice low. “I also needed a bit of reprieve. An escape from all this. I am… I don’t know. I’ve been missing Molly more than usual, lately-” she chuckles bitterly and without any humour. “-not as though I’ve ever stopped missing him, though it has been getting easier. And I enjoy Caduceus’s company and I think he is a great addition to the team, but sometimes when I see Jester weave flowers in his hair and Nott teach him about useless things and even when you are joking with him as if he has always been there, it’s hard not to feel like he is nothing but a replacement for Molly. Someone to fill his shoes. And I love him, I do, but those are shoes he is never going to be able to fill.”

She doesn’t want to admit it, but Beau understands. “I don’t think he’s… trying to replace him though.” She adds weakly. “I think he’s just trying to heal our hearts as well as our wounds. I think he’s… trying as hard as he can to make sure we’re well looked after and don’t die with our heads up our asses. I don’t think he’s consciously trying to replace Molly.”

“I know,” Yasha sighs and it’s such a painful sound that Beau wants to put her arms around her and hold her close but the only person who was ever able to do that freely was Molly and Beau isn’t sure if she and Yasha have reached that level of closeness yet. They’re getting there, though. “He is just trying to stay alive with us bunch of assholes but he is just… too similar to Molly for comfort.”

And Beau thinks hard about what Yasha means because she knows in her hearts of hearts its true. Both thrust suddenly into a world that they have never encountered before and have no recollection of. No family that they can contact. Travelling with a group of people who are more fucked up than any of them realize so they can stay alive. Beau, now that she acknowledges it, knows it’s true. “I understand.”

“You do?” Yasha sounds relieved and Beau can’t blame her.

“Yeah,” Beau nods. Above them, gentle speckles of rain begin to fall from the heavy clouds to patter against their skin. “I do. I miss him too. If you need some time away to remember him then we’re sure as hell not going to argue. You deserve it.” She waves her hand back towards the town where the rest of the Nein was sleeping peacefully in their beds. “Fuck, I think that if given the chance the rest of us would go on a little mourning vacation too. Go with your Lord and go remember Molly. You deserve it. And if you like, I won’t even tell anyone that you’re gone.”

Yasha breaths out a long sigh and Beau feels the tension leave her friends body. “Thanks, Beau.” She says softly. “I think… I think that if I can, if the Storm Lord permits it, I might go and visit Molly. Go tell him about our adventures and the people we’ve met and all the good we’ve done.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Beau smiles. “Do me a favour and tell him I said hi. And that he’s still a prick.”

Beau feels Yasha’s laughter more than hears it as she wraps her arms around the monk and pulls her in close against her side and all the snarky comments Beau wants to say leave her in a rush because her and Yasha are apparently closer than she thought and Yasha is holding her like they are old friends and definably not people who had only known each other for a few months.

When it really started to rain, Beau doesn’t notice, because Yasha is protecting her from the storm with her body.

* * *

   Beau doesn’t necessarily wait for Caduceus because he’s got that look on his face that says he wants to ask something but doesn’t know how or if it’ll be worth it, so instead she waits until his indecisiveness becomes unbearable and Beau packs up her things and go sits by him while he’s pouring out a cup of tea. “You look like there’s something on your mind.” She says as she sips at her tea. It’s sweeter than she would normally prefer but she enjoys the tangy aftertaste.

“What?” He’s somewhat startled by her arrival despite how perceptive Beau knows he normally is and she hides her smile behind her cup as Caduceus tries to understand the words Beau is speaking. “Oh, yeah, right. I guess I was just thinking about home is all.”

“Do you miss home?” Beau asks and as she looks around she realizes how stupid the question is. They are literally sitting in the centre of a vast forest with tropical plants growing out of random places and flowers pushing through the packed earth. Caduceus doesn’t seem to think that the question is stupid though, so Beau stays quiet as he thinks.

“Yeah,” He says and Beau watches him scratch at the long pink beard that hangs from his chin. She’s surprised Jester hasn’t tried to braid it already. “I do miss it. Sometimes I miss it more than other times but I suppose it’s more often than not. Though it might have stopped being my home the moment the blight took over, I’m not sure. That’s more something that I’ll have to ask my father if I ever see him again.”

It’s right then that Beau realizes she doesn’t really know much about the Clay’s and that nobody in the Mighty Nein has really thought to ask. “Don’t think like that Cad. We’ll find your family and we’ll save your home. Together.”

"Yeah, I hope so," Caduceus smiles and sniffs at the air. His eyes fall shut as the wind blows through the thin layer of fur coating his face. "The Wildmother gave me a sign. She is sending me east for one reason or another and I am hoping against hope that I shall either find a cure for my home or the family that I was separated from so long ago."  
  
Beau sighs and pats her friend on the shoulder. Cad butts his head up against her hand and makes a deep sound low in his chest when Beau scratches at his fur. "I don't think She would lead you astray. A faith like yours... that’s hard to ignore in any circumstance."  
  
"I hope that my family still recognises me," Caduceus says. "I haven't seen them in many seasons and I uh... I don't exactly look like a young babe anymore." He rubs his stomach and Beau is struck once again by how sickly thin and gaunt Caduceus is.  
  
A thought comes to her with the intensity of a lightning strike. She glances at her friend who is more concerned with feeding his beetles pieces of fruit than her stunned look. "Caduceus..." she asks worriedly. "This illness on your home... it doesn't affect you as well, does it?"  
  
Clay belts out a jolly laugh. "Oh no," he chuckles. “Not at all. I just get my sustenance from plants rather than meat and well- not much can be found from plants. Proteins and all that. The blight on my land hasn’t affected me as far as I’m aware except for making my family leave and ultimately driving us out.” He sighs and the smoke from his tea obscures his face for a moment. “Thank you for this. I believe… this talk was good. I sometimes have trouble asking things when they seem too obvious to everyone else.”

Beau smiles and clinks her tea-cup against Caduceus's. “Don’t sweat it, man, I’m usually clueless most of the time.”

* * *

  (Beau never waited for Molly.

The moment she had him alone, away from the untrusting gathering of Caleb and Nott and Keg, and pinned him up against the nearest tree with her arm across his chest. “What the fuck is your problem?”

Molly laughed sharply. “What’s my problem? Are you fucking joking Beau? Three of our friends have just been kidnapped by god knows who and taken to who knows where and are currently doing who knows what! I’m not exactly the keenest to sit here and wait until word of a half-orc, a blue tiefling and a giant goth woman arrives, letting us know that they’ve been killed or worse!”

“We’re going to get them back,” Beau said as she pulled away. Molly stayed pressed up against the tree. “I swear to god Molly I’ll die before we give up on them. I won’t let it happen.”

“You don’t understand Beau,” Molly snapped, pacing up and down. His tail swished behind him anxiously. “Yasha is my best friend- fuck, she’s my sister, the only family I have left. I can’t just leave her there!”

“Yasha is strong,” Beau said slowly. Molly’s red eyes looked as hot as the infernal pit of the nine hells and just as dangerous. “She’ll survive this, whatever this is. So will the others.”

When Molly turned to stare at her, she resisted the urge to take a step back. He looked tortured and pained and heart-broken and Beau knew deep down that he blamed himself. “I can’t let anything happen to her, Beau. I haven’t spent long in this life without her. She’s always been there for me, when I needed her and when I didn’t, but I can’t just abandon her.”

“We’re not abandoning any of them.” Beau reached a hand out for him but Molly moved away from her comfort, rare as it was. Beau could feel the violence and the pain radiating from her friend in pulses. “We’re just taking our time, making sure we get there. Playing our cards. We think we know where they’re going and who they are and what they do, so we’re going to try and cut them off.”

Molly was panting, chest rising and falling rapidly, fists clenched at his side. “I know who they are Beau, and that’s what scares me! I don’t know much about slavers but if what Keg said is true then they’re breaking our friends down to _nothing_. Torture, Beau. Or something just as bad. How many limbs do you think they’ll be missing when we find them?”

“Alright, Molly I get your point!” Beau snapped, moving to turn away but Molly grabbed her by the arm and wrenched her around. “ _What_?”

“My _point_ ,” Molly spat lowly, the grip on Beau’s arm tight enough that she might bruise in the morning and that his talons began to dig into her skin. She didn’t mention it- not when she noticed how wet his eyes were. “Is that these people, these Iron Shepard, are slavers. How much do you think someone would pay for a sea-worthy half-orc, a blue tiefling who is impervious to frost instead of fire and a half-angel barbarian from Xhorhas? More money than either of us have ever seen in our lives.”

Beau threw her hands up above her head. “I don’t fucking know Molly. Have you tried praying to the Moonweaver or some shit? Maybe she’ll lend us a hand.”

“You don’t think I’ve been doing that every single night since they were taken?” Molly hissed through grit teeth. He let go of her arm and instead gripped his horns and pulled his neck back so far Beau was worried that one of those fine, healed over scars that coated his skin would break and blood would begin spilling down his neck in rivulets. “You don’t think I’ve prayed and begged and bargained for them to be brought back to us? You don’t think Jester and Beau and fuck, maybe even Fjord has been doing the same thing to their gods? You don’t think I’m trying?”

This time Beau did reach out and she caught Molly’s fist before he slammed it into a tree. He panted as she held him still. “I know you’re angry, Molly, but being angry isn’t going to help us get our friends back. Save all that anger for Lorenzo and then let it leave you when you’re holding them in your arms again.”

Molly scoffed. His arm didn’t move but Beau could feel it shaking. “It’s funny. It’s like they went out of their way to hurt me specifically.” Beau made a faint noise of confusion. “Think about it, because I know I have. They take my roommate, my sister and the only other person of my race that I haven’t wanted to punch in the face within moments of meeting her. The only people in this whole godforsaken team who give a fuck about me.”

“Molly,” Beau began quietly. “You know that’s not true.”

But Molly just ignored her and wrenched his fist from her grasp. She let him go. “One of us is going to die on this rescue mission, Beau.” His voice was rough and broken and it made Beau ache somewhere deep inside. “And I hate to say it, but I hope it’s me. You all… have too much to live for. So much light to shine. And me… I’m just living on borrowed time in a body that never really belonged to me and a life I don’t deserve to live. If anyone is to die during this, I want it to be me.”

“I thought you said you didn’t want to die?” Beau muttered but even she could hear how wrong the breathy laugh sounded. “When did all that change?”

“I don’t want to die, at least not until I get to see the others again, and preferably not ever, but it’s going to happen soon.” He glanced over his shoulder at Beau as he turned back to the clearing to join the others. “And it's changed as of right now.”

And then he was gone and Beau was reaching her hand out towards him, she was left alone in the tiny patch of green with the moon shining down at her from above. She paused until Molly had gone to join the others by the fire and pulled out his tarot cards for Keg that Beau bowed her head and followed in after him, sitting by Caleb’s side as he read by the light of the fire.

Beau really wished that she'd waited.)


End file.
